


got us a battle

by ohmcgee



Series: little beasts [23]
Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Assassins & Hitmen, M/M, Recreational Drug Use, little beasts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-22
Updated: 2016-03-22
Packaged: 2018-05-28 07:43:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6320599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ohmcgee/pseuds/ohmcgee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bruce doesn't have many rules.</p>
            </blockquote>





	got us a battle

The run-down apartment reeks of cigarette and pot smoke when Bruce kicks the door in and some girl with her top down around her waist gives a little shriek and pulls her friend into one of the rooms. It clear no one could hear him banging on the door because of the music blaring from the living room, something with so much bass Bruce already has a headache from it.

“Rule number one,” He says after he shoots a hole in the stereo so everyone can hear how _calm_ he is. Jason looks up from where he’s sitting, his eyes wide. At least, Bruce thinks, there’s a little bit of fear there mixed in with the dark look he always gets before he drops to his knees and begs Bruce to fuck his face. “ _Always_ answer your phone.”

He kicks Jason’s Samsung across the wood floor to him where he’s sitting on the couch, slumped in between Roy and someone Bruce doesn’t recognize, one arm draped across Roy’s thigh. The other one has his arm around Jason’s shoulders, leans in and says something in Jason’s ear and Bruce’s trigger finger twitches.

“Get up,” Bruce says. “We’re leaving.”

He strides across the room to knock Jason’s boots off the coffee table, stare down at him.

“Dude,” Roy says, drawing the word out at least three syllables worth, reaching a hand out to grab Bruce by the arm. “Chill. We were just --”

Bruce takes Roy’s hand off of him and breaks three of his fingers.

“ _Ow fuck shit,_ motherfucker!”

“Don’t ever touch me,” Bruce says and extends his hand to Jason. “You’re going home.”

“Nah,” Jason says, ignoring his hand. His eyes are big and black, his mouth red where he keeps licking at it and there’s a sheen of sweat around his hairline. “I’m having fun.”

“Mm,” Bruce says, picking up the bottles on the coffee table. He pops open the lid, checks out the little leaf imprinted into each of them, then turns to Roy. “I bet you are. Since when is Ivy dealing to pieces of shit like you?”

Jason giggles and leans against Roy when Roy starts whining about his hand again. “Shhh,” he says, putting his finger to his lip. “Harley shared with us. Don’t tell.”

Bruce sighs, leans down and scoops Jason up, throwing him over his shoulder. 

“Should probably put some ice on that,” he says to Roy and walks out of the apartment.

 

: : :

 

“Bruce,” Jason says in the car, leaning in to rub his face against Bruce’s coat, crawl across the seat to pet the stubble on his face and giggle. “ _Bruuuuuuce._ ”

“I’m still angry with you,” Bruce says, swerving when Jay’s hand on the back of his seat slips and he falls into his lap.

Jason fingers the chain around Bruce’s neck, walks his fingers up Bruce’s throat to try to put them in his mouth. “Don’t be mad,” he says, slipping half of the way back into his own seat when Bruce stops at a red light, then leans down, rubs his cheek against Bruce’s cock through his jeans. “Wanna taste.”

Bruce groans when Jason takes his dick out and licks at him, palms the back of Jason’s head and _pushes_ him down on his cock until he chokes. He loses track of where they are or how fast he’s going, loses himself in the wet, tight heat of Jason’s mouth and the fluttering of the back of his throat. His hand slips when he comes and he grinds the shit out of the gears, but it hardly matters. He’ll steal a new car next week. 

“Are you still mad?” Jason asks, crawling back into Bruce’s lap, looping his arms around his neck, dragging his come-filthy lips all over Bruce’s mouth while Bruce _tries_ to watch where they’re going.

“Very,” Bruce says and shoves him into his own seat, yanking the seat belt out and fastening it. “Don’t even think about touching yourself.”

“B--” Jason starts, but Bruce shoots him a glare so sharp it makes Jason flinch a little. Instead, he just huffs and turns the radio all the way up, slumps back in the seat. 

Bruce smirks every time he sees him squirm out of the corner of his eye.

 

: : :

 

When they get home, Bruce doesn’t say anything to Jason, just gets out of the car and walks in the house. Jason follows him, silent, all the way up to the bedroom, then huffs again when Bruce still refuses to acknowledge him. 

“Did you want something?” Bruce asks as he hangs up his coat. 

“ _Bruce_ ,” Jason whines and Bruce just raises his eyebrow at him, shuts the closet door then stalks across the room at him. 

He knows exactly how predatory he looks. He knows the fear in Jason’s eyes, has seen it in countless others’, usually before he slices them open. He has no intention of doing anything of the such to Jason, of course, but still, there’s a part of him that wants that fear there. Hell, he _needs_ Jason to have it. 

Jason goes stock still when Bruce gets right up next to him, shivers and bites his lip when Bruce shoves his hand down inside Jason’s back pocket, squeezes his ass as he glares down at him, then pulls his phone out and holds it up in front of Jason’s face. 

“Fuck,” Jason breathes out and tries to rub up against him, but Bruce stays just far enough out of reach. 

Bruce ignores him, taps in the passcode on the screen, pulls up the phone log. “Do you see this?” He says, holding Jason’s phone in front of his face. “My name. Five missed calls. Two text messages.”

“Yep, that’s what it says.” Jason says, reaching down grab his dick. He’s probably so hard by now he’s ready to scream, but that’s okay. Bruce likes it when he screams. 

“Explain to me,” Bruce drawls out. “What was going through your mind when you decided to ignore my calls.”

“Jesus, I just needed to -- I have a fucking life, you know.”

Bruce decides to let the fact that he’s clearly hiding something go; for now. “What if I needed you for a job?”

“Dickie would’ve found me,” Jason shrugs.

“What if I’d been in trouble?”

Jason snorts, rolls his eyes. “Because that’s likely.”

He does at least tense up when Bruce grabs his face, digging his thumbs into Jason’s jawbone tight enough to bruise.

“And what if something had happened to you,” he says, forcing Jason to hold his gaze until he actually starts squirming beneath it.

“Fuck off,” he mumbles, looking across the room, at anything besides Bruce.

“Look at me,” Bruce says, not releasing his grip, but loosening it, holding Jason’s face in his hand now instead of gripping it tight. “When you didn’t answer your phone --”

“What?” Jason asks, his breath catching in his throat. “You think I’d got got? Worried I’d rat you out, B?”

Bruce kisses him to shut him the fuck up, kisses him because that’s the fucking _least_ of what he worried about and he hates that he was worried at all, hates how all the bloodlust takes over completely when he so much as sees another person’s hands on Jason. Even still he’s thinking about going back to Roy’s after he finishes up with Jason, breaking every finger on the guy who had his arm around Jason on the couch. 

“I’m going to fuck you,” Bruce growls as he rips Jason’s shirt off over his head, slams him back against the wall and tears open his jeans. “So hard you’re going to scream my name until you lose your voice.”

He grabs Jason once he gets him undressed, turns him around and pushes him against the wall, bites at the back of his neck, then grabs the lube off the table and slicks up his fingers.

“You’re reckless,” Bruce says against his ear as he teases Jason with just one finger up and down the center of him. “You don’t take orders as well as Dick. You’re impulsive.”

He pushes that finger into Jason and Jason moans for it, scratches at the paint on the wall. 

“You’re unpredictable,” he says, biting Jason’s ear and pushing in another finger, pushing in _deep_ with both of them until Jason yells _fuck_.

“This isn’t your corner on the East End,” Bruce says, fucking him brutally, relentlessly, so hard even he’s starting to sweat. “You can’t just come and go as you please anymore. I need to know --”

“Fuck,” Jason says. “You need me.”

Bruce pulls his fingers out so quickly Jason gasps audibly, turns him around and kisses him hard, fierce, lifts him up and drives into Jason so hard their cries mingle together between their mouths. 

“You need me,” Jason says again as Bruce lifts him up and fucks up into him, growling against his throat. “You -- _fuck._ ”

Bruce doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t trust himself to let anything than grunts and profanities come out of his mouth, tries to keep busy with biting at Jason’s throat, his jaw, his mouth, as he fucks him into the wall, Jason’s heels digging into the scars on his back, Jason’s nails leaving new ones there. 

“Fuck, fuck,” Jason gasps when he’s close, sweat dripping between his eyes. “Bruce, Bruce. .I need --”

Bruce tightens his grips and hitches Jason up higher, changes the angle and drives into him deeper. “I know,” he says, digging his forehead into Jason. “I --”

Jason screams when he comes, just as Bruce thought he might, throws his head back for Bruce to suck on his throat, paint it with bruises and teeth marks. When he’s finished, Bruce pulls out of him, bends Jason over the bed and fucks him until the bed shakes and he comes so hard he has to bury his own scream in between Jason’s shoulder blades. 

“Jesus,” Jason says after, rolling onto his back. “Sweet talk Ivy into giving us more of that epic shit, would you? That was fucking _insane._ ”

“I don’t do favors for people who don’t answer my phone calls,” Bruce says, leaning back against the headboard. 

Jason sighs and rolls onto his side, looks up at Bruce with his head propped on his elbow and traces a scar on Bruce’s thigh. 

“I was just…” he starts and Bruce isn’t sure why, but he reaches down and fingers the curls at the base of Jason’s neck. “Sometimes I just have to get away. It’s not -- it’s not you.”

“Good,” Bruce says. “Don’t do it again.”

Jay lays his head on his thigh and Bruce watches all the tension melt from his shoulders, reaches out to run his hand down the length of his side. 

“Because I do,” Bruce says, the words razor sharp in his throat. “Need you.”

“Mm,” Jason says sleepily. “Cuz there’s no one else that can take all your dick in their mouth?”

Bruce smiles and closes his eyes. “Exactly.”


End file.
